


if you ever loved somebody put your hands up

by NoGood_InGoodbye



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 13:41:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12558600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoGood_InGoodbye/pseuds/NoGood_InGoodbye
Summary: “It’s only 4 o’clock, Beca...”“The best time for a nap. Trust me, Beale, I’m a professional.”Or: The five plus one times Beca Mitchell and Chloe Beale use one another as a human pillow.





	if you ever loved somebody put your hands up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kimmania](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimmania/gifts).



> To kimmania because I don't know when the fuck I'll be able to finish that Emily-Stacie fic of them helping out Beca's proposal or if I'll _ever_ finish it (I'm so stuck it's embarrassing, hahaha) so have this instead!
> 
> As usual, unedited/beta'ed and this _wasn't_ inspired by Nelly's Just A Dream but when I was typing up the last line, I remembered it, so, there. Title of this fic from Nelly ;) Comment and tell me what you all think!
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own Pitch Perfect or the wonderful babies

She fell into it—figuratively and literally.

She’d returned from another shift at the station, feet dragging sluggishly through the carpet as she shed her coat and let her bag trail behind her— _thump thump thumping_ up the stairs after each step she took.

As her tired legs dragged her to her room, she let go of the bag strap she’d barely been clutching and fell into her bed—earning a squeal from her unnoticed intruder.

Beca grunted.

She looked up to find warm hair and melting blue eyes twinkling back at her in amusement.

“Long day?” the redhead asked softly, running her hands through the brunette’s hair as Beca nestled back into the lap she’d fallen into.

The sophomore managed a mumbled affirmative before sinking deeper in the redhead’s lap, shuffling slightly to find a more comfortable position.

A breathy chuckle left the supersenior, who continued to stroke through the girl’s hair with a quiet contentment. Soft humming followed the gentle caresses and Beca felt herself falling—falling slowly but surely and warmly into the deep spell of slumber that had been escaping her for days.

Her shifts were longer now at the station ever since Jesse had left—he wasn’t angry, they’d talked about it and they’d cleared it all out with each other, but he couldn’t hold a show like Beca and stacking was great and all but some film majors were willing to pay him to score their senior projects and, well, Beca understood. Aside from her shifts, she’d been making demos and finding internships so she could finally start making a name for herself and her music. Not only that but making sets and training the new Bellas was much more difficult than she’d imagined. Even with Chloe’s help, the new girls were impossible. All these things were running her through and the only thing keeping her from falling off the edge was ocean blue eyes and burning red hair.

As warm, honey humming and soothing caresses slowly steadied her breathing and gently quieted her thoughts, the brunette’s last coherent thought was that Chloe Beale was the best pillow in the universe.

* * *

Chloe’s head thudded a constant beat as she let her eyes squeeze shut and gave her brain some time away from all the letters swimming in her thoughts. If there was ever a time to doubt her choice of becoming a supersenior, it was then.

Try as she might, the words were simply jumbling in front of her and she couldn’t make heads or tails of her readings. She still needed to study for her first Long Test tomorrow and she was more than halfway there but… fuck did her head _hurt_.

She vaguely registered the sound of softly padded feet gaining volume before she felt cold hands cupping her face. Her eyes fluttered open to find steely blue eyes narrowed in concern as Beca worried her bottom lip.

“Hey,” the brunette’s voice was tender and lulling. “You okay?”

Chloe mumbled groggily, trying to blink her way awake. “Hm? Yeah, just tired.”

“Maybe you should take a nap,” Beca suggested as she started to pack and organize her things into a little pile, moving them from the couch and the redhead’s lap over to the coffee table. “Come on, let’s get you to bed, Chlo.”

“No,” Chloe managed a half-hearted pout. “Big test. Can’t rest.”

The redhead heard the long-ass sigh from her co-captain before the couch dipped and cold fingers circled around her wrist. “Fifteen minutes, then. Just take a nap right here and I’ll wake you up in fifteen.”

The supersenior didn’t have it in her to argue, something akin to a purr slipping past her lips before she crumbled into the brunette, snuggling into the sophomore’s lap. The brunette gently brushed away the hair falling into her face as she let her thumb swirl small strokes on the redhead’s temple, the last song she’d heard the brunette trying to mix sung softly over her head.

* * *

Beca hated drinking. Not because she was some puritan saint or whatever but because she was _such_ a fucking lightweight that it _disappointed_ her. Despite that, she couldn’t help but drink to their third straight nationals win. And maybe she should have listened to Chloe and _stopped_ taking the drinks Amy handed her, but she was already gone by the second cup the Aussie had passed and she really couldn’t remember taking a third and fourth. But apparently, there she was, Chloe’s warm blue eyes swimming hazily in front of her as jumbled words of seventh and no and home registered in her brain.

Suddenly, the room was spinning—or was it zooming? No, it was _lurching_ forward as some unknown force levitated Beca out of the party and back to her hotel room. (The brunette could not comprehend that Chloe and Lily were carrying her through the hotel or that the only reason her feet barely brushed the floor was because Lily was tall and Beca weighed like a feather).

Somehow—probably by magic—the junior was gently placed in bed and could feel warm, smooth hands pulling off her heels. She could feel the comforter being tugged from under her and pulled over her whole being, engulfing her and cocooning her in the white sheets.

Yet as comfortable as the bed itself felt—something felt _wrong_. Under the warm, fluffy sheets, she felt cold and much too small for the bed.

She felt lonely.

Blindly, she reached out a hand for whatever could fill the gap.

“What? You okay, Bec?” a soothing melody washed over her and the junior couldn’t help the sloppy, content smile that lifted her lips.

“Warm,” the brunette mumbled, finding the edge of the redhead’s shirt and tugging it. “Need.”

She missed the way the redhead’s brows furrowed as she gently placed the glass of water and Advil by the side table before she gave the supersenior’s shirt another tug. Understanding slowly filled her eyes before she rolled them and a fond smile graced her lips. Chloe pulled back the sheets to climb in, Beca snuggling into the girl as soon as she’d laid down.

A soft chuckle escaped the older girl’s as the brunette laid her head over warm, smooth skin. The bed felt warmer and softer and more like _home_ , Beca thought as her mind started to fade, fade, fade to black.

* * *

An exasperated voice sighed before saying, “You’re running yourself to the ground, Beale.”

Chloe turned to find her co-captain, hands on her hips and frown in place that the redhead couldn’t help but think of her blonde best friend—both women would loathe to hear of the comparison. The supersenior’s brows furrowed as the brunette’s words registered in her brain. “I’m fine, Bec.”

The little quirk of her brow and deepening of her frown argued otherwise, cold blue eyes challenging ocean blue with a silent barrage of questions.

The redhead replied with her own frown, challenging her co-captain to a silent battle of wills. Unfortunately, the supersenior never liked fighting all that much (even sexy eye-fucking battles) so she conceded with a sigh as her shoulders slumped and her head fell back against the rehearsal wall. “I’m so _tired_ and _stressed_ , Bec. I’m just—I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

Warm blue eyes started to sting as the brunette started to blur in her eyes before they became clear again as cold pale hands cupped her face and bony thumbs wiped away the stray tears.

“When’s the last time you slept, Chlo?” Soft. Beca’s voice was always softer with her. Gentler. Tender.

Chloe’s brows furrowed at the question—the redhead really couldn’t remember the last time she’d properly slept. Probably—“Two days before Muffgate, I guess? I mean, I got a pretty good four hours of sleep three days ago.”

Brown brows drew together as the senior nibbled on her bottom lip. Beca pulled her closer, hands still holding her head gently, cradling, before standing on her toes and dropping a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Even the muddle of sleep couldn’t stop the knots from forming in her stomach and her heart from threatening to jump out in reply.

The brunette pulled away with a tender smile before her hands dropped from her face to her hand, cold, slender fingers tugging on smooth, small ones. “Let’s take a nap.”

“It’s only 4 o’clock, Beca,” and the redhead knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep with the feel of soft pink lips lingering on her forehead.

The brunette turned back to her with a grin, blinding and heart-stopping and mischievous as well. “The best time for a nap. Trust me, Beale, I’m a professional.”

Later that day, the Bellas found their co-captains wrapped around each other dead asleep on the couch.

Beca untagged herself from every single picture.

Chloe downloaded them all.

* * *

“There are _bears_ , Chlo.” Warm blue eyes rolled in reply, red hair shaking as a sigh past pink lips.

“And there are bear _traps_ , Beca—or did you already forget?” the redhead smirked, the cold blue eyes challenging her in the dim firelight rolling back in reply.

“There are also _bugs_ and the humidity is _horrible_ here an—”

“No one’s _forcing_ you to sleep outside, Bec.”

The only reply the redhead got was a quirked brow and an unimpressed frown. Chloe grinned in response as she leaned over and dropped a quick peck on the younger girl’s cheek before setting up their sleeping bags.

The fight had been _nasty_ and Beca had regretted everything she’d said. She _knew_ Chloe knew that she still felt guilty about it and used the brunette’s guilt and regret to her advantage. The girl was fucking _evil_. With a resigned sigh, the DJ helped her co-captain set up their sleeping bags (they learned long ago that sleeping was simply _easier_ when it was with the other) before settling in next to the redhead.

Jessica and Ashley slept across them from the firepit and Lily was sleeping in some tree. Emily slept at their feet and the rest of the Bellas stayed in the tent (not _everyone_ appreciated nature, Chloe).

The co-captains fell into place easily, both their backs to the fire as Beca held the redhead from behind. Cold, pale hands laid flat on Chloe’s stomach, rising and falling at every breath. The brunette’s minty fresh breath blew softly on the redhead’s shoulder, the feeling familiar and burning despite the goosebumps that formed.

The brunette shifted closer, letting their legs tangle messily together as the DJ rested her forehead in the redhead’s hair.

Voice soft, breath cold. “Chlo?”

“Yeah?”

“What—” dry pink lips were wet by a nervous tongue. “What did you mean by that—experimenting—thing.”

She could feel her stomach tense under her cool fingertips, the brunette’s grip staying steady and firm. Crickets chirped loudly around them as warm, sturdy skin stayed tense under her touch. She waited and waited, the warmth from the woman in her arms and the gentle rustling of leave lulling her slowly, slowly into slumber.

But she heard it, before her brain could completely shut down. “You know what I mean.”

Beca hummed in agreement, arms tightening as she let her lips ghost bare skin. “Do you?”

* * *

Chloe tried not to shuffle in her seat, always finding airplane chairs a little too uncomfortable. The redhead shifted slightly before cold slender fingers wrapped over her hand. Warm blue eyes found steel orbs glowing brightly at her.

“Relax, Chlo,” thin pink lips tilted into a smirk. “It’s barely a six hour flight, you can always sleep the time away.”

The redhead blew away her nerves, shooting a teasing glare the brunette’s way. “Beca Mitchell, if you expect me to sleep the entire six hours it takes for us to get to our new home then I will _kill_ you in your sleep.”

The younger woman’s smirk shifted into a bright, dorky grin. “I think you’d have to be _awake_ for that, Ms-I-need-knock-out-pills-for-this-shit. In case you forgot, babe, _I_ didn’t take two sleeping pills half an hour ago.”

“Never heard of sleep-killing, Mitchell?”

“Oh, you mean what you do every night you _snore_? It’s a good thing I have earplugs, huh?”

“I do not _snore_.”

“Do you want me to record you? Because I _can_ , Beale, and I _will_.”

“Beca Mitchell you are the _worst_ girlfriend—”

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned off the Fasten Seat Belt sign, and you may now move around the cabin…”

The flight attendant’s spiel was ignored by the couple as the redhead turned to her girlfriend with wide eyes and her jaw dropped. Beca’s smug smirk grew at the swirl of emotions that flashed across deep blue eyes. She leaned forward to land a quick peck on the redhead’s cheek before leaning back into her seat, pulling out her laptop and equipment to get some work done.

Sometimes, it amazed her how her girlfriend knew just what to do to get her to calm down—or at least keep her distracted. It was a long road getting to where they were, sleepless nights and frustrated tears all coming together to arrive at that point. Beca leaning on the redhead as she rested on her shoulder and Chloe laying on the brunette’s head as she watched the bouncing bars rise and fall on Beca’s screen. Despite the small shakes and slight swaying in the plane, the steady breathing and musical _tap tap tap_ on her thigh lulled her to sleep. She wondered—idly, lazily, half-heartedly—of what she might end up dreaming about. She realized then, the soft humming of some song they’d heard on the radio earlier filling the small gap between them, that she didn’t really have to.

She had everything she’d ever dreamt of nestled right over her heart.


End file.
